


August 1997

by helsinkibaby



Series: The Pieces of my Life [9]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-08-15
Updated: 2004-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The break up</p>
            </blockquote>





	August 1997

When they break up, it is August 1997 and it is all very civilised, no fights, no ugly scenes. They have been together for over three years by now, are as happy as it is possible for a couple to be. Ellie is a couple of weeks away from going back to Stanford for her senior year, well on course to finish highly placed in her pre-med course, and she is already thinking about good medical schools, Johns Hopkins her first choice, her mother’s first choice as well. Greg has already graduated, has been accepted to grad school in New York and is looking forward to that, can’t wait to start the next chapter in his life. But for now, he is happy to be here, in San Francisco with Ellie.

It has been, he has to admit, a perfect summer. As he’s done for the last number of summers, he’s been working as a lab tech for the San Francisco PD, thinks that he really might like to make a career out of this. Ellie meanwhile, has been working at one of the hospitals in San Francisco, gaining experience in her chosen field, and they have been living together, much to her father’s disapproval, in a one room apartment midway between their respective places of employment. Greg will be the first to admit that it’s not the most salubrious of residences; in fact, it’s a dump. But it’s only for the summer months, and Ellie is there with him, and that makes up for a multitude as far as he’s concerned.

It is an ordinary night, the same kind of night that they’ve been enjoying all summer. Ellie beats him home from work, so she starts work on dinner, and when he gets home, he pitches right in and begins to help, following her instructions. They chat non-stop as they cook, swapping stories of one another’s days, occasionally sampling the food – well, him occasionally sampling the food, Ellie occasionally swatting his hand and glaring at him as he tells her that she looks far too much like her mother for comfort when she does that – and occasionally forgetting about the cooking to steal a kiss or three. Eating doesn’t dull their conversation any, they’ve yet to find something that can, and afterwards, they share the cleaning up. They don’t go out, instead curl up on the bed in front of the battered old television set, the one that doesn’t work more often than it does, which even tonight is slightly fuzzy and fading every now and again into black and white. They channel-surf aimlessly, not really finding anything of interest, and when Ellie emits a groan of disgust, mutters that there’s nothing on, Greg wastes no time in suggesting that there are far more interesting activities they could be pursuing. Ellie looks up at him then, a teasing smile on her face, but she’s already leaning up to kiss him before he can press the off-button on the remote, and for the longest time, he forgets about everything else but her.

Later, they lie in bed, him on his back, her slightly on her side, her head on his shoulder. One of her arms is draped across his stomach, and she is lying encircled in his, just like on any other night. But this night, Greg is curious when he hears Ellie sigh, and when he looks down at her, he’s more than curious when he sees the look on her face. The only word that comes to mind is “melancholy” and after what they’ve just been doing, there’s no way that such a look should be there.

He’s fairly sure that if he comes right out and asks her if something is wrong, she’ll deny it; he’s picked up that bit of knowledge in the last three years. So he phrases his question in a slightly different way, tickling her so that she gasps and squirms against him, and when she laughs breathlessly, he grins wickedly, says, “Penny for your thoughts.”

He stops tickling her when he speaks, and in hindsight, he will wonder if that was a mistake. Because when she hears the words, her smile fades slightly, and she settles back against him, puts her head on his shoulder, turning it inwards so that she can place a kiss on the skin there. “I’m just thinking,” she says quietly, and something about her voice makes him frown, has all the hairs rising on the back of his neck. “About how much I’m going to miss this.”

Ignoring the little voice in his head that screams, “Danger, Greg Sanders, Danger!” he tilts his head to see her better. “Miss this?” he asks. “What, are you going somewhere?”

He’s trying for teasing, is smiling the most forced smile he’s ever smiled with her, but she is utterly sad and serious when she replies. “No. But you are.” His eyes narrow and she chuckles with no humour. “You’re going to New York next week Greg. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

He takes absolutely no consolation in the fact that her attempt at a teasing tone falls as flat as his had, perhaps flatter. “I haven’t forgotten,” he says, serious himself now. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

She raises one eyebrow. “You’ll be there… I’ll be in California. Kinda makes this hard.”

Greg shifts uncomfortably, pulls her a little bit tighter against him. “We can visit,” he objects, knowing that she has a point, but sure he can overcome it. “Write… call…”

Ellie chuckles. “You’re going to be busy with school,” she reminds him. “And remember last year, I hardly saw you, you had so much work to do. You think my senior year’s going to be any different?”

“Well yeah,” he replies, because there’s one very big difference. “You’ve got that whole work ethic thing down.”

She snickers, even as she swats his shoulder gently, which is how he knows she’s not taking offence at the remark. “I mean it,” she continues softly. “I’ve been thinking about it… it’s all I’ve been thinking about. And I don’t know how we can make this work being so far apart.”

When he looks down at her, her eyes are dry, but he can hear the tears in her voice, just bubbling underneath the surface. “It’s only for a year-” he tries, but she’s got an argument for that too.

“And after that, I’ll be in med school somewhere, and who knows where you’ll be.” She shakes her head, swallows hard, and he knows exactly what she’s feeling, because he’s feeling it too.

“Then I won’t go,” he says, and that makes her take a sharp breath in, makes her sit up and stare down at him. The small part of Greg’s mind that doesn’t feel like it’s fighting for his life notes that it’s a sure sign of how serious this conversation is that the sight of her, naked and beautiful in the pale moonlight, doesn’t have him pulling him towards her for something that’s a lot more pleasurable than this, but for once, it’s the furthest thing from his mind.

“No.”

“I mean it.” He sits up to, grabs her hand. “I’ll get a job, I’ll apply somewhere else next year, some place near to one of your schools-”

“Greg, no, that’s your future-”

“You’re my future.” He places all his emphasis on the first word, and she drops her head, long hair dropping down, obscuring her face from his sight. “You’re my future,” he repeats softly, and when she looks up, there are tears in her eyes. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

She looks away from him, swallows hard and sets her jaw. “You think I do?” she asks. “My whole life, no-one has ever made me feel the way you do. I love you so much, and the thought of…” She can’t even voice it, looking down at their joined hands, and he can’t take the misery in her face any more, pulling her close to him, her forehead resting on his shoulder. She sighs again, a deep, shuddering exhalation of breath, before continuing, “I don’t want to lose you,” she tells him, echoing his own words. “But I know how hard this is going to be… and I don’t want us to end up hating each other.”

He shakes his head, pushing her away from him so that he can see her face, his hands holding her by the shoulders firmly. “I could never hate you,” he says. “No matter what happens, I could never hate you.” He kisses her then, hard, to prove it to her, winding his fingers through her hair, his tongue probing between her lips, and she kisses him back just as hungrily. They’re both breathing hard when he pulls away with a visible wrench, and he can hardly believe what he’s going to say. “I understand what you’re saying Ellie… I guess I’ve been trying not to think about it. But you’re right. I know that. I just...” He shrugs, for once in his life at a loss for word. “I just wish you weren’t.”

Her tears are loose by now and she nods her head. “Me too.”

Sighing, he pulls her into his arms, lying back down and taking her with him, staring at the ceiling, trying to wrap his brain around what’s just happened. “I meant what I said though,” he tells her, and she lifts her head slightly in question. “We’re still going to write… and call… and visit. I’m leaving California… not you.”

She’s nodding, eyes wide and fearful. “You promise?” she asks.

He looks at her seriously. “Have I ever lied to you?” he asks bluntly, and there’s not even a second’s hesitation before she shakes her head. “You and me Ellie… we’re always going to be in each other’s lives. Even if it’s not like this.”

She still has one more question though. “What do we do now? Until next week?”

This time, he’s the one who doesn’t hesitate. “We enjoy the time we have left,” he says simply, and when he pulls her against him, kisses her and rolls her over on her back, she responds enthusiastically, and that’s exactly what they do.  



End file.
